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Legacy (First Colony Book 3)

Page 26

by Ken Lozito


  The Vemus fighters surged forward in an all-out run. Sanctuary’s defenders tried to keep them at bay, but the Vemus kept moving forward. They could no longer get a clear shot to incinerate the fallen Vemus, and they rose again. Noah kept firing his weapon as panic seized his chest. He just wanted them to stop. He wanted it all to stop.

  Lenora cursed. “I’m out!”

  “So am I,” Noah said.

  Twenty meters away the Vemus fighters vaulted over the walls, overwhelming the CDF soldiers there. Noah grabbed Lenora’s arm and started pulling her in the opposite direction.

  “No, they’re over there too!” Lenora said.

  Noah looked behind them. Vemus fighters were storming the fortifications and there was nowhere for them to go. The way the Vemus moved, there was no way they could outrun them.

  The Vemus finally noticed them and Noah’s mouth went dry. He held onto Lenora. “Don’t look at them,” he said, but Lenora wouldn’t turn away. She screamed angrily and flung her empty rifle at them.

  To his left, Noah saw something moving toward the Vemus fighters and was shocked to recognize packs of berwolves racing toward them. They tore into the Vemus fighters and overpowered them in a rush. Noah watched as Vemus bodies were tossed into the air and then were torn apart by the berwolves’ powerful jaws. Noah wasn’t sure whether the berwolves were vulnerable to the virus. Most colonial scientists didn’t believe that the creatures of New Earth would be, but there was no way to be sure.

  A scarred-faced berwolf padded over to them.

  “Bull!” Lenora cried.

  Noah watched as more berwolf packs entered the battle. A sonic boom sounded above, and soon after, seven more Vemus troop carriers came into view.

  “We have to get out of here. More are coming,” Noah said, knowing how futile it was.

  The Vemus were regrouping after the berwolf assault. Noah was watching the approaching Vemus troop carriers when a salvo of missiles streaked across the sky and slammed into them. Flaming wrecks crashed to the ground.

  A broadcast signal registered on Noah’s comlink as CDF Hellcats flew into the area.

  “This is Major Quinn. We saw that you have an infestation of Vemus soldiers and we thought we’d help out,” Sean said.

  Noah smiled and pumped his fist into the air. He had never been so happy to see a Hellcat in his entire life. The CDF Hellcats made another pass and began mowing down the Vemus on the battlefield. Meanwhile, CDF troop carriers landed behind the fortifications and dropped off reinforcements. Noah was choked with emotion and happy to be alive. He and Lenora picked up two fallen weapons and headed back to the fortification walls. They were still in this fight after all.

  Chapter Thirty-Five

  The Vemus Alpha closed in on New Earth’s solitary moon even as weapons of the Colonial Defense Force tore into its hull. The Alpha’s primary weapon cut deep gashes into the lunar surface, taking out CDF installations.

  Nathan looked at his two main holoscreens. At least no more ships were leaving the Alpha. They’d stopped as many as they could, but he knew a small number must have gotten through.

  “Comms, has there been any reply from our assault teams on the Vemus Alpha?” Nathan asked.

  “Negative, Colonel. We just had a partial broadcast,” Sergeant Boers said.

  He shared a look with Major Shelton. The partial broadcast they’d received earlier could be taken as a sign that the assault teams had successfully delivered their payloads and were moments from detonation.

  “Colonel, the last plasma cannon has been taken out. Their next shot will be at our location,” Lieutenant LaCroix said.

  “Comms, send out the evacuation codes for all base personnel,” Nathan said.

  The ground shook beneath his feet as it had done every time the Vemus Alpha fired its primary weapon. They’d fired everything they had at that weapon and they just couldn’t disable it. The CDF soldiers in the Command Center began evacuating the area. They’d try to survive in one of the underground bunkers they’d built.

  “Aren’t you coming, Colonel?” Major Shelton asked, her voice shaky.

  Nathan kept studying the holoscreens that still showed sensor data coming in. He’d sent the detonation signal for the assault team’s payload shortly after receiving the partial broadcast. Nothing happened. They could have set the bombs to use a timer, which couldn’t be overridden by a detonation signal from Lunar Base, assuming the signal could even penetrate the Vemus Alpha.

  “Colonel, there’s nothing more you can do here. We have to go,” Major Shelton said.

  Nathan had done everything he could but it didn’t feel like enough. Nonetheless, he began to back away from the command area. He didn’t want to leave, not with the Vemus Alpha still out there, but Major Shelton was right. They had no more weapons and the Vemus knew their location. They’d been systematically taking out all CDF installations.

  “Please forgive me,” Nathan muttered and turned away from the main holoscreens.

  He followed Major Shelton out of the Command Center. They ran to the nearest transit tube, which was almost full of CDF soldiers.

  “It’ll be a tight squeeze, but we’ll get you in,” said a soldier near the entrance.

  Major Shelton went in first and Nathan followed. As the doors shut behind him, they were squished together like sardines. There was a loud pop and the elevated capsule they were in shot away from Lunar Base. The magnetic tracks had no friction, and aside from being pressed up against each other, Nathan could hardly feel the movement. Thrusters fired as they reached their destination bunker. The doors of the transit capsule opened, and once they started to get off, Nathan finally released the breath he’d been holding in. The lights in the area dimmed.

  “Emergency power activated,” a monotone voice said.

  The main facility of Lunar Base was gone. Now all they could do was wait, hope, and pray.

  Chapter Thirty-Six

  Connor felt an immense vibration from the exoskeletal floor and something rippled beneath him, heading toward Captain Randle.

  “Stop!” Connor shouted.

  Captain Randle tried to squirm away from the swirling mass under the ground.

  “He will be brought into the collective. A soldier he will remain, but better,” the voice said.

  Captain Randle was pulled under the ground, and Connor screamed. He clenched his teeth and swung around, bringing his AR-71 up. The amorphous mass of the Vemus collective didn’t react at all. With Connor’s comlink activated, he began receiving broadcast updates from the lunar base assault teams. The bombs had been planted.

  “No, he won’t,” Connor said. “He’ll die, just like you will.”

  “You resist. Just like before.”

  Connor frowned. “What do you mean, before?”

  Something glowed inside the Vemus collective. He imagined the gray mass was one huge infected sack of living tissue, and if he fired his weapon, the infection would ooze out of it.

  “Your weapon will not harm me. I am everywhere,” the Vemus collective said. The entirety of the vast chamber pulsed in rhythm with the words spoken. The glowing orbs flared brilliantly from deep inside the exoskeletal-encased cords. They went beyond sight, and Connor suspected that they went throughout the entire Vemus Alpha. The Vemus collective was the ship.

  “You’re nothing but a disease,” Connor sneered.

  How could a disease achieve anything resembling sentience?

  “They used to believe as you do. They thought to stop us, but we are the same.”

  “What are you?” Connor asked.

  “We’re humans who’ve taken an evolutionary leap,” the Vemus collective replied.

  Connor shook his head. “That’s impossible. You can’t be human.”

  New network connections became available to Connor through his combat suit’s system. Then a data dump began to download to his suit computer.

  “Why have you come here?” Connor asked.

  The Vemus collective di
dn’t respond. Instead, words began to appear on his heads-up display.

  ::Biological imperative.::

  A series of images flashed on Connor’s internal heads-up display—mission briefings to research subheadings for things Connor had never heard of before.

  “It won’t succeed. There are bombs planted all over this ship,” Connor said.

  “We have the measure of your weapons. They will not stop us,” the Vemus collective said, once again speaking aloud.

  Connor glanced at the AR-71 in his hands and let it fall to the ground. Reaching behind his back, he moved to the side, next to one of the exoskeletal cords. Another ripple moved through the floor toward him, and he slammed into the cord. He braced himself against it and the shuddering movement beneath his feet stopped.

  “You could just leave. You came all this way and for what? There aren’t very many people here,” Connor said as he moved away from the cord.

  “Humanity is the imperative,” the Vemus collective replied.

  Connor swallowed as an image appeared on his heads-up display showing an NA Alliance soldier with his weapon pointed straight at him. The name Col. Gates appeared on the HUD overlay.

  Connor’s eyes widened. “What’s this?”

  Memories blazed through Connor’s mind like wildfire. The image was from his last Earth mission. Everyone who’d been witness to it was dead, or so he’d thought. The Ghosts were gone, and there was only one other person who’d been standing in front of him.

  “RJ!” Connor hissed. His eyes widened as he realized that buried within the Vemus collective was the leader of the Syndicate—a powerful group that operated above governments. They’d wanted to control everything and establish dominion over all people. The Vemus organism must have given them the opportunity.

  The horde of Vemus soldiers behind him seemed to move all at once.

  “You cannot harm us, and you will never leave this place,” the Vemus collective said. “Your weapons are not strong enough to stop us, nor will you ever kill us—”

  “I just did,” Connor said quietly, holding up the cylinder that was attached to the canister on his back. Four large-bore penetrators were still deployed from one end, each dripping with thick amber-colored liquid. Connor watched the blackened area around the spot he’d shoved the injector into spread rapidly. The New Earth virus, coupled with the nanobots, spread away from Connor like a black wave. The Vemus soldiers still attached to the collective started convulsing violently, and the soldier nearest him fell to the ground, unmoving. Connor turned toward the giant mass and watched with grim satisfaction as it seemed to sag into itself. He heard the fleeting, high-pitched whistles of the Vemus stretch into an elongated tone that soon faded to nothing.

  “General?” Captain Randle groaned.

  Connor spun toward the call. The cords that had held Captain Randle had slipped off of him, and the CDF captain was trying to claw his way out of the murky liquid. As Connor ran over to Randle, his feet were sloshing through the exoskeletal surface. He barely made it to the captain before his legs could hardly move through the stuff.

  “I’m here,” Connor said.

  Captain Randle turned toward him. “My comlink is online. The other team—”

  “I know,” Connor said.

  The Vemus exoskeletal walls weakened, going from a hardened surface to a liquid form. A large section sloshed to the ground, upsetting the rest, and the glowing orbs within went dark.

  The only lighting came from their combat suits.

  “What happened? Did it work?” Captain Randle asked.

  Connor stopped trying to struggle against the thick, viscous liquid and simply stood there. He looked over at Captain Randle and saw that his combat suit had been severely damaged by the Vemus exoskeletal sludge.

  “It worked,” Connor said and glanced at the timer for the bombs the assault teams from Lunar Base had planted.

  “My suit is going offline. You should leave me behind. You might be able to get away,” Captain Randle said.

  “Like hell I will,” Connor replied.

  “But General,” Captain Randle protested.

  “We’re about to die. You can use my first name, Wayne,” Connor said.

  “Well, don’t stay on my account, Connor,” Wayne said.

  “You’re not that pretty,” Connor replied. He doubted he could crawl out of there anyway.

  Wayne snorted. “I’m no Lenora Bishop, but I do like what I see when I look in the mirror.”

  Connor shook his head. “You would,” he said, and his throat thickened. He closed his eyes, not wanting to watch the timer anymore. Instead, he pictured Lenora’s beautiful face and long auburn hair with the rays of the sun casting her silhouette in shining brilliance. He wished he could be with her right now. He’d gladly live the rest of his life apologizing for the fool he was.

  He slipped beneath the liquid surface of the Vemus exoskeleton as the New Earth virus broke it down, and he looked over at Wayne’s darkened suit. The damage must have killed his power.

  “Wayne!” Connor called.

  There was no response, and Connor tried to wave to get his attention, but Wayne didn’t move at all. His body just sank in the murky sea of liquefied Vemus exoskeletal material. He screamed to Wayne and there was no response. Wayne was gone. His vision blurred. This was it. He was going to die . . . alone. He felt a wave of panic seize his chest. Connor gasped for breath and glared at the sight around him. He was surrounded by the dark bodies of dead Vemus soldiers, sinking into their watery grave. They’d once been people and he hoped they were at peace.

  Connor cringed inwardly as a flash of regret blazed through his thoughts, and he didn’t try to stop them. Instead, he let all his regrets have their due. The darkness closed in all around him and he felt an overwhelming sense of loneliness. He didn’t want to die here. He flailed his arms, trying to work his way through the murky liquid, but nothing worked. He just continued to sink among the still forms of the Vemus soldiers. Connor swallowed and glanced at the timer. Squeezing his eyes shut, he finally surrendered to the inevitable.

  Chapter Thirty-Seven

  Colonel Hayes leaned back and closed his eyes. A cool breeze blew through the open doors of the mobile Command Center at Sierra’s CDF encampment on New Earth. As the tension melted away, he sagged into his chair and his breathing became deep and regular with the allure of sleep. He’d found himself leaning over, succumbing to some much-needed sleep three times already, and by the fourth, he just gave in. There’d hardly been a moment’s peace in the two months since the Vemus Alpha ship had been destroyed. Fragments of the ship had bombarded the lunar surface, and the careful cleanup operations he’d been overseeing for the past few months were starting to catch up with him. He’d slept when he could sneak it in, and he felt himself drifting away now. Would anyone notice if he just rested his head on his desk? Perhaps he could just lie down on the floor.

  A woman’s voice cut through his slumber like a cleaver, and an instant headache came over him, snapping him awake. Nathan winced, hearing her walk into his office. He cracked an eye open and glanced at the doorway.

  “We do have a bed you can sleep in,” Savannah said.

  “I know, but if I take the time to go there, I’ll just wake myself up,” Nathan said softly.

  Savannah snorted. “So, you don’t want to join me for my four-month checkup with Dr. Quinn?”

  Nathan’s eyes snapped open, startled. “I thought that was tomorrow,” he said and quickly stood up.

  “It is tomorrow,” Savannah said.

  Keeping the days straight had become increasingly difficult when he hadn’t had a day off in so long that he couldn’t remember the last one. “I don’t know how Ashley does it.”

  “Her appointment as governor is temporary. She’ll serve out the remainder of Tobias’s term, but she’ll always be a doctor at heart,” Savannah said.

  Nathan arched his back and stretched. He glanced at the small swelling of Savannah’s
midsection and smiled. She was only just now starting to show her pregnancy. “Are you sure you don’t want to wait to find out if it’s a boy or a girl?”

  Savannah arched a brow. “What? Is it suddenly five hundred years ago?”

  “Well, technically it’s a little over four hundred and twenty, but since we spent two hundred of those years in . . .” Nathan’s voice trailed off and he raised his hands in front of his chest. “I was just asking.”

  Savannah stepped closer to him. “Does it really matter if it’s one or the other?”

  Nathan smiled. “No,” he said.

  “Good answer,” Savannah purred and kissed him.

  They left the mobile Command Center and he told Lieutenant LaCroix to continue monitoring the teams they had out in the field.

  They stepped outside and Nathan’s eyes widened. He was still waking up and his brain wasn’t quite functioning yet.

  “What is it?” Savannah asked.

  “If today is your appointment, that means we should also be getting the results for the survivors,” Nathan said.

  “Colonel Quinn is already there,” Savannah said.

  Promoting Sean Quinn to colonel was something Nathan had pushed for recently. Sean had been doing the job since Connor had put him in charge of the CDF ground forces. Being the war hero of Sanctuary, he had a loyal following that starkly rebuffed anyone who questioned Sean’s decision to blow up Sierra. Nathan had reviewed the reports and also supported Sean’s decision. Given the overwhelming enemy fighting force they were facing at the time, it was the best choice to ensure their survival. It had taken CDF forces weeks to hunt down all the remaining Vemus that had made it to New Earth. Once the Vemus collective had been destroyed, they seemed to lose some of their fighting capabilities, including their highly adaptive fighting abilities. Scientists were still theorizing about how the Vemus connection worked. They wanted to collect samples for study, which Nathan had steadfastly refused. All Vemus and remnants of equipment modified by the Vemus were to be destroyed. No exceptions. Nathan was the most senior officer of the Colonial Defense Force, so the decision was made by him. On the one hand, he understood the scientists wanting to know exactly what had happened on Earth to spawn the Vemus, but on the other hand, the colony had just miraculously survived something that had claimed billions of lives, so why tempt fate? He wasn’t convinced there was a real benefit to studying the Vemus, and some stones were better left unturned.

 

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